Work Text:
Dear ever dearest Laurens,
In more ways than one, I share attributes with birds. Whenever I am graced with your presence, a rush threatens to overcome me and colors my cheeks rubicund, with an astonishing likeness to cardinals. My heart beats several times faster than the wings of a hummingbird; and when you leave, I ache, as a mourning dove does, though the only thing I allow myself to grieve is the lack of a more profound and intimate relationship with you. Please pardon my childish similes- I use them only to convince you that I am totally and completely and romantically in love with you, and none other.
My love for you spills out like sand from a sifter’s hands; or rather wine from a servant’ jug; or rather blood from a deep wound; or rather like your own love for me spills out from the unfathomable depths of your heart and mind. Attaining amorous connections with you is my one and truly singular ambition, dominating any other beneficial affiliations I may have wont of. I ever wish only for the commanding touch of your hands, the firm but placid baritone that is your voice, and the fiery but simple drive of your personality. Of all the mistakes I have made in my short life, adoring you is most certainly not one. In fact, you are one of the only things in life that proves that there is still a force of good in the world.
From the attractively soft curve of your scarlet lips to the bronzed russet curls that wind to your broad, heavy shoulders, I am in love with you. This ever increasingly true fact obligates me to come forward with a proclamation: a proclamation of my infatuation, if you will.
I hope that my naïve advances are not unreciprocated; for having spent an extent of no less than four years morosely and forlornly falling for you, harder and faster than I have ever loved anybody else, it would be impossible to explain the amount of humiliation and disgrace I may feel. If it is in fact true that you do not return the same interest, please keep this letter between us. Thank you, dearest of friends.
Yrs frvr,
Alexander Hamilton